


blessed are those who hunger and thirst

by wintrs



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: (the smallest amount), Butt Plugs, Choking, Dom/sub Undertones, Double Penetration, M/M, Multi, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Slut Shaming, Threesome - M/M/M, also my propagation of whore daniel!, believe it or not this isn't even the first thing in this tag, my homage to DP World
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:21:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27732949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wintrs/pseuds/wintrs
Summary: Getting sponsored by DP World may be the best thing that's ever happened to Daniel, for reasons entirely unrelated to racing.
Relationships: Daniel Ricciardo/Max Verstappen, Valtteri Bottas/Daniel Ricciardo, Valtteri Bottas/Daniel Ricciardo/Max Verstappen
Comments: 20
Kudos: 76





	blessed are those who hunger and thirst

It starts out as a joke, as most things between them do.

“Slut,” Valtteri says, only half kidding. It’s incredible how quickly Daniel goes from nonverbal post-sex glow to rambling, even more incredible how quickly he’s decided to use his newfound words to impress Max with sexscapade stories. 

Not that Max seems to be listening anyway, sprawled out on his own side of the bed and making noises of response only when Daniel asks him direct questions.

“Mmm, you’re just jealous,” Daniel says, turning to Valtteri. Afterglow haze is infused in every word, and still he won’t shut up. “I’m just _that_ good. That sexy. Chicks are knocking down my door on the daily.”

“Chicks, huh,” Valtteri says. “And I thought you were representing DP World.”

Daniel laughs, as full-bodied as he’s able to after getting railed. “Ooh, never tried that one VB. You into that sort of thing?”

“Who would be into cargo in bed?” Max asks, and the conversation devolves.

But it doesn’t stop there.

Daniel keeps wearing things that say DP World, and Valtteri keeps looking at him knowingly, and the newly-informed Max keeps descending into giggles and pokes whenever he sees it. It’s not that Daniel isn’t laughing too—DP World is _hilarious_ , he’s made this joke himself so many times—but there’s something else prodding at the back of his mind every time it comes up that had been much easier to box away when it wasn’t being constantly talked about.

And Valtteri keeps looking at him. Knowingly. 

“How would it even work with two people,” Max asks. They’re all laid out in bed again, post-sex Max unusually sentient today, and Daniel feels Valtteri snort from where he’s pressed up against his side. 

“The logistics would be hard,” Valtteri says. “You’d have to find someone eager.” 

Daniel resists the urge to elbow Valtteri for that, but more than anything he’s thankful no one had been looking at his dick to see it twitch at the word _eager_. He can’t help it, okay. 

Neither of them say anything, and when Daniel opens his eyes its to both Max and Valtteri’s eyes on him. 

“Bastards,” Daniel says, verging on a whine. 

Valtteri laughs at him, but Max is still looking with a mix of awe and horny. “Would you?” he asks, entirely serious.

Daniel’s—he’s obviously thought about it by now. Thought about what it would feel like to be pushed so far, how much attention would be on him and him alone, how overwhelming it would be. Thought about the sorts of things Valtteri would be able to call him without a hint of exaggeration if he needed it badly enough to want two at once.

“Would _you?_ ” Daniel asks.

Max’s nose crunches. “I asked first.”

Daniel could easily say no. He probably should say no and not let this get any more out of hand, leave the joke as a joke and nothing more. 

But he’s never been the type to let a little inhibition keep the mail from being sent.

“Yeah,” Daniel says. “Yeah, I would try it at least.”

—

They decide to do it on an off weekend, of course. The gameplan is relatively squared away, the logistics have been managed as much as they’re able, and Daniel would be lying if he said an excited-nervous chill wasn’t constantly running up and down his spine. It’s all sort of awful and amazing at once.

Daniel wakes up bright and early on Saturday, before either Valtteri or Max, and it’s easy enough to pull on some shorts and pad into the kitchen to make breakfast. He doesn’t need to be horny all day, but it’s hard to think about anything else, even when he ought to be distracted by flipping pancakes. 

Valtteri knocks on the kitchen door as he comes in to announce himself—Daniel requires it after getting surprised and burning himself one too many times—and comes up behind Daniel.

“Good morning,” Daniel says, pointedly ignoring the way he would go right now if Valtteri asked him.

Valtteri runs his fingertips along the V of Daniel’s hips. “Morning.” He wraps his arms fully around Daniel, pressing his bare chest to Daniel’s back.

Daniel resists the urge to shiver. “Touchy today?”

Valtteri rolls his hips nearly imperceptibly against Daniel’s, so lightly he’d deny it if Daniel pointed it out, and Daniel already feels himself starting to lose brainpower to his dick. It’s only _eight_.

“You were already thinking about it, or you wouldn’t have put on shorts,” Valtteri says.

Daniel whines, mostly because Valtteri isn’t fully wrong. “A guy can’t even put on shorts in his own home without being targeted.”

“I only do it because you like it,” Valtteri says.

Daniel doesn’t respond—he’s pretty sure if he opens his mouth he’s going to whine again. Valtteri is still pressed up against him, breath ghosting over Daniel’s neck every time he speaks, and Daniel’s already feeling slightly off-balance. Valtteri’s not even hard, but Daniel knows he could be, and that’s enough to get him shifting back ever-so-slightly on instinct.

Daniel doesn’t need Valtteri to say anything to feel the weight of his judgement. “We could just—a quickie,” he says anyway, dignity be damned. “Before Max wakes up.”

“Begging, at eight o’clock,” Valtteri says. “That might be new even for you.”

“Shut up, just—” Daniel says. “Do you want to or not?”

Valtteri chuckles. “Something like that.”

“Something like what?” Daniel says. Splitting his attention between Valtteri and the pancakes and his dick does not leave a lot of room for processing. 

“Something like a quickie,” Valtteri says. “But let’s eat before anything like that.”

—

Daniel isn’t desperate, but the way he’s practically shoveling whole-grain pancakes into his mouth begs to differ. Valtteri is smirking at him between bites of porridge, and it’s as infuriating as it is sexy and it’s even more infuriating that it’s a turn on at all.

Max rolls out of bed not long after they start eating, and Daniel silently thanks whatever god is out there that Max always shovels food into his mouth, horny or not. He’s as untalkative as he is every morning, but he must sense _something_ from Daniel because no one would perk up that fast over whole-grain pancakes.

“What are you on about?” Max asks, glancing between Daniel and Valtteri. 

“Daniel is horny,” Valtteri states matter-of-factly. “We’re going to sort it out after this.”

Heat shoots down into Daniel’s belly at that, and he watches Max’s eyes blow wide across the table. 

“Sort it out?” Max asks, probably because this is most definitely not written into their DP World™ gameplan. 

“He looks like he’s going to start humping the furniture at this point,” Valtteri says, and Daniel has to consciously stop tapping his leg under the table. “Besides, it’ll make things easier later.”

Valtteri leaves it at that, and although Max is sufficiently intrigued he continues to eat pancakes like nothing’s going on. Daniel would very much like to get on with it, or at least know what’s coming, but at the same time there’s a thrill to not knowing exactly what Valtteri has in mind. Clearly it involves opening him up at least, which is enough to have Valtteri and Max laughing at how frequently he shifts in his chair thinking about it.

They give it a couple of hours after breakfast, and Daniel only gets more antsy. He’s been chubbing for probably the entire last hour, but he ate _whole-grain pancakes._ It would’ve been convenient to know they were moving up the timetable before that particular decision, but it had seemed smart at the time. Not so much now when he wants to do things, well, _now_.

Still, it'll be fine. Valtteri proposes they do their work outs on the balcony, all together, and Daniel doesn’t know whether to be horny or scared. Although not that he has much of a say in it—he’s both, and the two halves of him are so mixed up anyway they’re practically indistinguishable. 

Working out together naturally leads the three of them to competing, but today might be one of their most chill days ever. Daniel gets a little testy with Max doing squats, but other than that they all stick to themselves for the most part with small jabs here and there. Valtteri is cool as can be, and Daniel really doesn’t know what to do with that except try to push down his boner. 

Daniel ends up laying on a yoga mat by the end, arm thrown over his closed eyes, not even trying to hide the pull at the front of his shorts. Max is hard, too, and he’s pretty sure Valtteri is at least on the way—it wouldn’t even be notable if not for the conversation earlier.

Still, he lets out a strangled noise when Valtteri comes over and uses his foot to nudge Daniel’s thighs open, staring down at him from an angle that really, really shouldn’t make Daniel’s dick jerk.

“Has any blood gone to your head today, or is it just here?” Valtteri asks.

It probably says something about Daniel that he doesn’t feel the need to close his legs even when Valtteri takes a step back, gives him the option.

“I’m going to get the lube,” Valtteri says.

Daniel and Max glance over to the same piece of patio furniture simultaneously, and Valtteri takes a long blink before adding “If there’s already lube somewhere out here I _do not want to know,_ you two are insatiable. Keep yourselves busy.”

Valtteri walks back into the apartment, and Daniel turns his gaze to Max. Keeping busy shouldn’t be a problem; Max is already looking at Daniel with unmasked interest, eyes flicking from Daniel’s face to his exposed chest to his shorts and back. Daniel parts his legs another inch, an invitation Max accepts immediately, and although Daniel enjoys the shier side of Max he’d be lying if his unabashedness didn’t have its own charm as well.

Max sinks down in front of him, hands grabbing a thigh each and pushing his legs all the way open. Max is so big, now, it’s practically necessary if he wants to get any closer, but Daniel shivers with it anyway.

“You are easy today, aren’t you,” Max says, more of a statement than a question. 

“And you’re not?” Daniel asks, but Max just laughs and leans down, kissing Daniel and boxing him in completely. 

Max rolls his hips down, and the friction is barely there but it’s enough to have them moaning into each other’s mouths, both entirely too easy for what must still be before noon. Daniel runs his hands down Max’s back, pulling him down again, and it’s all just a little bit tentative still, neither of them willing to progress past slotting their mouths together and grinding.

Keep yourselves busy, Valtteri had said. But he didn’t specify what was _allowed_.

Max snorts, and Daniel is going to ignore it (at least until later when he can properly tease him), but then Max is laughing hot air into Daniel’s face.

“You _are_ easy today, Mr. DP World,” Max chuckles. “Ha! You liking that shouldn’t have been a surprise after all.”

Daniel huffs. “Yeah, well, let’s hope you don’t cum as soon as you get inside then,” he says. “That would kind of ruin the event, y’know.”

“I haven’t done that since I was a teenager,” Max says. “But thanks for the concern. You should probably be worried about cumming in your pants, though—”

Daniel hooks his leg around Max’s and traps his arm, making brief eye contact before he flips them, and Max ends up flat on his back on the patio and giggling. Daniel doesn’t find it quite so funny, so he shuts him up with tongue and presses down, rolling his hips and relishing the way thick thighs squeeze around him when he does.

Valtteri walks back out just then, carrying with him the half-empty bottle of lube from Daniel’s nightstand and an incredibly conspicuous box. Daniel feels his jaw drop involuntarily, but he’s quick to close it when Valtteri chuckles.

“This isn’t how I expected to find you,” he says, gesturing at the change in position. “You could’ve at least rolled him onto the mat.”

So they’re just. Not going to talk about why the box from under Daniel’s bed has made its way onto the balcony. Daniel had already been feeling the adrenaline and the want before this, but he feels like he’s just been forced into hyperdrive.

“He was being a bitch,” Daniel says, and Max snickers again in the background. “You know, I think we should DP World _him_.”

“Maybe,” Valtteri says, “but I’m sure you wouldn’t want to wait any longer than you already have. You’ve been thinking about today, haven’t you?”

Daniel, already flushed, feels his face run hotter. “Like you have to ask.”

That gets a laugh out both of them, and Daniel is sure he would find this a lot more funny if it actually was Max in the hot seat. As it is, it’s Daniel, and the hot seat is just that—hot.

“Roll over,” Valtteri says. “I want you on your back.”

Daniel rolls back onto the mat, and the way his limbs press against Max’s lying next to him is a remembrance of past nights like today. There’s banter, because there always is, but it’s one of the moments where when all’s said and done Valtteri is _unquestionably_ in charge, Daniel and Max laid out at his disposal. And Daniel is selfishly pleased that this time, it’s all about him, that if anyone is going to be made to wait it’s going to be Max.

“You’ve been good, at least. For now,” Valtteri says. He moves to stand in front of Daniel once again, looking at him thoughtfully until Daniel bites his lip to keep from whining. Valtteri finally, finally kneels down, setting the bottle and box to the side as he does, and Daniel would be more ashamed of how openly he needs this if he didn’t know that being so blatant about it really is the best way to get what he wants.

“Take off your shorts, both of you,” Valtteri says, and its a testament to how needy they both are that Daniel and Max scramble to comply. “Jesus, Daniel,” Valtteri says once Daniel’s pulled his shorts down far enough to make clear the fact that he isn’t wearing anything underneath.

“What was the point of trying to hide it at all if you were going to make yourself this available anyway?” Valtteri asks.

“I’m only human, somehow burning my dick would’ve been a terrible start to the day. Shorts can be for protection purposes too,” Daniel says.

“So can I take these off, then,” Max interrupts before Valtteri can respond, gesturing to his own briefs. It’s a fruitless question, although even Max who’s relatively less experienced with Valtteri ought to know that.

“No,” Valtteri says. “Just watch.”

Daniel watches Max’s eyes roll just slightly and silently gloats again. He wins.

Valtteri hooks both of Daniel’s knees, pushing them up to his chest and spread, until Daniel gets the hint and replaces Valtteri’s hands with his own. Valtteri is fond of this, making Daniel hold himself open, and Daniel still isn’t sure if Valtteri gets off on it or if he just likes making Daniel fight off a blush. 

Valtteri picks up the lube, flicking the cap off. “Do I even want to know,” he starts, pausing to hear Daniel whimper when he squeezes an excess of cold lube over the base of Daniel’s cock, “how many times the two of you have fucked outside?”

He wraps his hand around Daniel, pumping up once and spreading the slickness up and back down before thumbing at the head. Valtteri’s fond of this, too, making everything wet and just past messy, the way Daniel probably would be on his own if he had the parts for it.

Daniel cuts off that line of thought, suppressing a shiver. “Y’know, you’re out here too” he says instead, trailing off a little breathily when Valtteri’s hand slicks down over his balls, pushing a few drops of lube over to slide even further.

Valtteri hums. “I suppose I am.”

“I think we’d better speed up if you don’t want to get caught out here,” Max says. Daniel glances over to find him sitting up on his arms, staring with the type of hyperfocus generally reserved for racing at the place where Valtteri is tracing his nails over Daniel’s thighs.

“You’re impatient for someone who’s just watching,” Valtteri says. Daniel huffs a laugh that quickly turns into a groan when Valtteri’s fingers run down, down, until one is finally pressing in where he needs it. 

“Like I’m the only one,” Max says, but his voice fades into the background as Valtteri works Daniel open, quickly turning one finger to two. He isn’t angling for Daniel’s prostate, and yet Daniel already feels the familiar pull in his gut, not there yet but certainly around the corner. It’s distantly embarrassing, but then so is all of this: the way Valtteri and Max are staring at him with brazen interest, the way he can’t stop the small noises that come out every time Valtteri moves his hand, the way he’s spread open on their balcony as if it isn’t mid-afternoon on a Saturday.

“Since you’re so impatient, make yourself useful,” Valtteri says, gesturing to Daniel’s dick where it’s still leaking up against his stomach. 

“I’ll cum,” Daniel blurts out, eyes blown wide. Valtteri raises his eyebrows, and when Daniel looks Max has already sat up, licking his lips in a way that would make Daniel laugh if his sanity wasn’t directly correlated to that tongue at the moment. 

“Don’t,” Valtteri says simply, and the heat that shoots down to Daniel’s belly at the command is almost enough to have him disobeying immediately. 

Max leans in lips parted, and Daniel’s last thought is that _they should probably get a condom_ before Max is tonguing from base to tip, sucking him down in one smooth motion. He’s being deliberately mean, of course he is, but acknowledging it doesn’t make it any less difficult to deal with. Daniel’s bucking between the dual sensations of Max’s tongue swirling around him and Valtteri pressing in a third finger, body and mind unwilling to coordinate enough to let him do anything but squirm and try not to cum. 

_Well,_ Daniel thinks, semi-hysterical, _we’ll be at a condom all-time-low soon anyway._

“You’ve been good today, begging and whining aside,” Valtteri says, fingers slowing before stilling completely. “I’m feeling generous. I’ll give you a choice.”

“Choice of what?” Daniel asks. He makes eye contact with Max as Valtteri pulls him off Daniel’s dick with a pop. Max is flushed to the tips of his ears, lips red and swollen already, but he clearly doesn’t know what Valtteri is talking about either.

“You can cum now, if you want,” Valtteri says. “But if you do, I’m not going to let you cum again until we both have—inside you.”

Daniel’s mouth drops open. “And if I don’t?”

“Then it’s going to be a long couple of hours of waiting, I think,” Valtteri says. “Especially with this.” He digs around in Daniel’s box, which—Daniel realizes with a jolt—he must’ve opened at some point when Daniel wasn’t paying attention.

What he pulls out is one of Daniel’s larger plugs, and Daniel feels himself turn about 100 shades redder. 

“That—in me—” Daniel stutters. “Until?” 

“Until we fuck you, yes,” Valtteri says, picture of nonchalance. 

Max laughs, not even bothering to stifle it, and Daniel glares. “Damn, VB, you’re being mean.”

“You should be mean to Max instead,” Daniel says, and it’s Max’s turn to glare.

“Believe me, I don’t need to be mean to him for him to get it. You’re both easy, but _you_ ,” Valtteri says, expression caught somewhere between a smirk and a fond smile, “you’re much too confident. You could use some humbling now and then.”

Daniel huffs. “Well, humble me already then. I can take it.”

Valtteri chuckles but says nothing, and Daniel has to hold back a whimper when Valtteri brings the plug to his hole, pressing forward without pushing in.

“What do you choose?” Valtteri asks, brow quirked, but all three of them know there’s only one real option.

“I can take it,” Daniel repeats, competitive even to his own detriment. “I’ll wait.”

“Good,” Valtteri says, and _pushes_.

Daniel groans, eyes slipping shut as his head tips back on the mat. The stretch is unreal, as it always is with the unyielding silicone of a plug, and Daniel shivers with the knowledge that this is nothing compared to how full he’ll be later tonight. He can’t help the whine he lets out when it’s all the way in, Valtteri pulling back just slightly, teasing the idea of fucking him with the widest part. 

“There we go,” Valtteri says, patting Daniel’s ass before standing up. He’s looking down at Daniel and Max like they’re no more interesting than furniture, but his eyes are lit up, contradicting his unconcerned expression. 

“Can I…?” Max trails off, shifting back and forth on his haunches, cock straining wet against his briefs.

“No,” Valtteri says, simple again, and Daniel has to roll away from a punch when Max catches him smirking.

Well. Wrestling with Max won’t be conducive to making his boner go away, but it’ll definitely kill some time.

— 

Even so, the wait is awful.

He doesn’t stay hard the whole time—he would actually die of lack of blood to the head if he did. But it’s not as if he can think about anything else when the plug is there with every step he takes, every slight shift he makes while sitting down. Max and Valtteri are both content to a quiet afternoon gaming—well, quiet in Valtteri’s ever-polite case—so Daniel can’t even effectively bother them when he’s bored. He ends up wandering back and forth between them listlessly, wobbly knees and all, trying to focus on literally anything but the obvious.

Daniel is sitting next to Max on the couch aimlessly scrolling Twitter when Valtteri passes by on his way to the kitchen, and Daniel sees his chance.

“VB,” Daniel says, standing in the doorframe. “Val, buddy.” Valtteri looks up from refilling his glass of water without comment. 

“ _Valt-teri,_ ” Daniel tries, emphasizing his correct pronunciation.

“Is there something you needed?” Valtteri asks, once again infuriatingly calm. 

“Can we please,” Daniel starts. “Please. Get on with this.” Valtteri sips his water, staring at Daniel coolly while Max yells something in Dutch from the other room. 

“You said you could take it,” Valtteri says. “Made a big point about it too. Are you going back on that?”

“It’s been _two hours,_ ” Daniel says. “This is probably unsafe or something. I’ll Google it, seriously.”

Valtteri glances at the clock. “It’s been just over an hour.”

“Val,” Daniel whines. 

Valtteri sighs deeply, but Daniel can tell its put on and grins. “I indulge you too much.”

Daniel crosses the threshold as Valtteri sets his glass on the counter behind him, hands connecting with Daniel’s waist as Daniel angles to get his tongue in his mouth as fast as humanly possible. Valtteri lets him take what he wants, one hand firm on Daniel’s hip as the other moves down to grab his ass through his shorts, and Daniel would poke fun at Valtteri being the desperate one if it wouldn’t be entirely unbelievable. 

“I like the view,” Max’s voice rings out. He must’ve gotten curious with Daniel’s disappearance, and Daniel turns back to see him standing in the doorway, controller in hand. “But can we take this to the bed yet?”

“I think we can,” Valtteri says, and Daniel’s sure the excitement on his face must make him look half-crazed at best.

“Fucking finally, Christ,” he says. “Took longer than my podium.”

When they get to the bedroom, Daniel strips out of his shorts and clambers to the middle of the bed without waiting for instruction. He likes it when Valtteri throws him around a little before they get into things, but he’s had enough foreplay to last a lifetime over the past couple of hours.

“Of course you’d be even more eager,” Valtteri says as Max climbs into bed after Daniel. “But I am a little bit proud, I suspected you might take a shower and try to secretly get yourself off.”

Before Daniel can defend himself, Max is crawling on top of him, insistently rolling his hips down and pressing his mouth to Daniel’s once again. On any other day, they would both be in a little trouble for being so presumptuous, but even Valtteri is strung out by now with the anticipation of it all. 

“Come on,” Valtteri says, and Daniel hears him slap Max’s ass before Max pulls off and scoots over next to Daniel. Valtteri, newly undressed and certainly a sight for sore eyes, gets between Daniel’s splayed thighs again and prods at the base of the plug. Daniel breathes deep, already half hard again despite the fact that it’s only been five minutes.

“You have been good, against all odds,” Valtteri says, tugging at the base lightly. “I won’t make you wait too much longer.”

Valtteri’s tug turns into a pull, and Daniel can’t help the moan that’s wrenched out of him as he opens around the widest part, the whole of the plug exiting smoothly and leaving him gaping. Daniel whines, tries to close his legs when Max and Valtteri won’t stop _looking_ , but Valtteri catches his thighs and forces his legs back open. 

Valtteri uncaps the lube he must have procured from somewhere, squirting a generous amount onto his fingers before tossing the bottle aside. Daniel’s stomach twists as Valtteri traces a finger around his hole once, just once before he pushes three fingers in with no resistance whatsoever. He groans with it anyway; he’s not sore, exactly, but he feels it coming already and they haven’t even gotten to the main event yet.

“You took it well,” Valtteri says, fingers thrusting in and out a few times before he lines up a fourth. “Do you think you could take my fist?”

Daniel’s mouth drops open, heartbeat thundering in his ears as Valtteri doesn’t wait for a response before he fucks in with the four, stopping just at the edge of his palm. Daniel knows it would be easy, so easy, for Valtteri to just fold his thumb in and go the rest of the way, do to Daniel what he’s only seen done in his most lurid of porn searches.

“We can save that for another time,” Valtteri says, nodding at Max when he moves to wrap a hand around Daniel’s dick. Max’s hand pumping him on top of Valtteri’s fingers and the images running through his head is enough to leave him speechless, floundering for something to say in return to that and coming up dry. “But I bet you want to, don’t you?”

“Maybe,” Daniel says, all he can really manage as his eyes go a little teary already.

Valtteri chuckles. “Shameless.”

Daniel lets himself be lost in the rhythm of it, the feel of the calluses on Max’s hand and the way Valtteri’s fingers stretch him further than he’s ever been. He’s thought about it, of course he’d thought about it, but there’s a difference between calling yourself a size queen as a sly half-joke and having it laid out as an undeniable fact. 

They have _plans_. They worked this out ahead of time, the responsible undefined-frenemies-with-benefits thing to do, but Daniel still feels out of his depth as Valtteri pulls his fingers out and nods at Max to lie down. Daniel isn’t even sure why he’s nervous, now of all times, but something must show on his face because Valtteri gently rubs a hand over his hip.

“You okay to go?” Valtteri asks. “We can stop here if you want to.”

Daniel closes his eyes, breathing deep before letting out a quiet laugh. Valtteri must think he’s gone crazy. “Let’s go,” he says, propping himself up on his elbows. “We made it all the way to lights out, we have to send it.”

Valtteri ignores the race metaphor and helps him swing a leg over to straddle Max, who looks about like he’s just seen God or the secret to Mercedes dominance or something. Daniel wastes no time in reaching back, lining Max up and sinking down, eyes fluttering shut as he adjusts the angle.

“Fuck,” Max breathes out. “You’re so loose.”

Daniel whines. “Oh, god, don’t say that,” he says, rocking his hips up and down a few times experimentally. 

“He’s not wrong,” Valtteri says, and Daniel very much does not need Valtteri’s input on this. It’s not that he can barely feel Max, he _can_ , it’s just way closer to ‘hot dog in a hallway’ than Daniel would’ve ever thought possible. And Max is much thicker than a hot dog.

Valtteri stops Daniel’s movement with a hand on his hip, the other lining himself up with Daniel’s hole. “If it hurts, we stop. Okay?”

“Okay,” Daniel says, stomach turning in anticipation, and then Valtteri is moving forward.

It’s so much, immediately, Daniel unable to stop the guttural moan punched out of him as Valtteri slides in. It doesn’t hurt, but Daniel’s first reaction is still to try and get away, mind too scattered to process how full he is all at once. Daniel shifts up involuntarily, but before he can even get anywhere Valtteri is there pushing him back down, forcing a gasp out of Daniel that quickly turns into another moan.

“Take it,” Valtteri says, as simple as his commands always are. “You wanted this, didn’t you?”

Daniel blinks his eyes open, taking in Max in front of him, flushed all the way to his chest and lips bitten red. He looks gone already, eyes wide and glossed over, and Daniel knows he must look the same. Max swallows hard, thrusting up as well as he can with his limited position, and Daniel has to put his hands on Max’s shoulders to stop himself from falling bonelessly into his chest.

Suddenly, Valtteri smacks the side of his ass, causing Daniel to jump and let out the loudest noise he’s made all night as it gets one of them pressed up against his prostate. 

“I asked you a question,” Valtteri says, breathless but no less uncomposed. “You can’t forget to answer just because you’re finally getting what you want.”

“I want it,” Daniel says, stray tear slipping out of the corner of his eye. “I want it, you know I want it, please move.” Daniel feels everything all at once, Max’s big hands on his thighs, Valtteri’s tracing over his hips, even the air feels heavier on his skin than ever before. Every one of his nerves is standing on end, waiting for some resolution to the deep-seated fullness that Daniel knows he’s never going to be able to do without after this.

“You can do better than that,” Valtteri says, but he slides out anyway, poised to thrust back in and take everything Daniel has to offer, sanity included. “Beg.”

Daniel is well-used to crying and begging to get what he wants, but there’s something about _this_ that makes it feel nearly impossible. He flushes redder, trying to ignore the way he can basically sense Valtteri and Max’s eyebrows raising without even looking, and presses himself down against Max to bite his shoulder in lieu of a response.

“ _Now_ you’re shy? After all of this?” Valtteri asks. 

Daniel whines, firmly pressed into the crook of Max’s neck. Maybe that’s what it is, after all—the fact that he’s already gotten so much and still feels the need to ask for more.

“I don’t know what the point of that is, when all three of us already know how much of a whore you are,” Valtteri says. He lines himself up and presses forward, just enough so Daniel can feel it and cant his hips back, all for Valtteri to pull away with another mocking laugh. 

“Just—come on,” Daniel says. “Please.”

Daniel cries out as Valtteri gets a hand in his hair, pulling him off Max so he’s staring at the ceiling. He probably looks more like a porn star than anything else, let alone a formula one driver.

“Please what?” Valtteri asks, lining himself up once again. Valtteri isn’t the type to drag things out—he isn’t even the type to talk to Daniel half the time—but he undeniably _enjoys_ this. It’s cruel but nothing unusual by now, but Daniel still whines, trying not to think about how little resistance Valtteri will feel pushing back in. 

“Fuck me,” Daniel says, closing his eyes. He’s always been shameless, always _needed_ it, and always known it’s the best way to get what he wants. “Please, I need you to fuck me, I need both of you.”

Valtteri hums. “You could still do better, but fine.”

Finally, finally Valtteri slides back in alongside Max, and Daniel can’t help the drawn out moan he lets out as he sets a slow pace. Valtteri’s hardly doing anything and yet Daniel could cum any second just from the stretch alone, the stretch and slide unlike anything he’s ever experienced before. Max is a near constant pressure inside him, and he’s so full that he keeps expecting his body to resist Valtteri’s thrusts on principle if nothing else, but it _doesn’t_ , not even close. He’s easy in more ways than one. 

Valtteri isn’t pulling as hard on his hair anymore, and keeping himself upright on top of trying to keep his brain from frying is too much too manage. But just as he’s about to fall back into Max again, Valtteri startles a moan out of him as he wraps one muscled arm around Daniel’s chest, fingers curling around his throat. 

“What kind of person lets two people fuck them at once, huh?” Valtteri asks, breath tickling Daniel’s ear. “What do you think Max?”

Max’s hands tighten on Daniel’s thighs. “Someone desperate,” he answers, and Daniel can tell from the tremble in his voice that he’s not far off. 

“Polite,” Valtteri says. He pulls out all the way, still poised to snap his hips at any moment and Daniel already knows what’s coming. “Daniel?”

“A slut,” Daniel answers. Valtteri fucks into him harder than he has all night, and Daniel is nothing more than a melted, oversensitized mess between them. 

“I’m glad you’re at least that self aware,” Valtteri says. “You have been good today, I’ll give you that much. As good as you’re able to be considering how much you need it. Do you want to cum?”

“Please,” Daniel begs, no fight left at all. “Please let me cum.”

“Get Max off first, then you can,” Valtteri says. He lets go of Daniel’s throat, lets him tip his head back down to look at Max.

Predictably, Max is red all the way down to his chest, practically shaking in his own right where he’s laid out beneath Daniel. He can’t even imagine the way it must feel to be inside of someone _with_ someone else, feeling their cock against yours without being able to do anything but take it. Max has as little control as Daniel like this, if not less—at least Daniel isn’t being borderline ignored for everything except his dick. 

And he’s been waiting all day too, albeit with a little less teasing. Daniel’s honestly a little surprised that either of them have lasted this long in the first place.

Valtteri stops, evidently to give Daniel room to maneuver, so Daniel plants shaky arms on Max’s chest and tries to lift himself up. He’s strong, but you’d think he’d never lifted a day in his life with how slow it is, the way his muscles strain to do it. He feels the ache forming all the way down his back and lower, but he _needs_ this too much to ever stop. He starts to sink back down with an exhausted whine.

“Fuck, just,” Max pants, “just come here.”

Daniel lets his arms give out, plastering himself against Max’s chest as Max pulls his hips down the rest of the way. Max is trapped beneath them and too tired to do much more but physically grind Daniel’s hips down, providing the barest hint of extra stimulation, but after the day they’ve both had it’s more than enough. Daniel has to stop himself from cumming on Max’s abs as Max rides it out, fruitlessly bucking his hips up a few times and rubbing against Valtteri in the process. 

Max whimpers, and Valtteri takes over Daniel’s hips again to pull him off. He flips Daniel onto his back next to Max, a repeat of the balcony just a few hours ago, and Daniel wants to hide his face—he’s crying, now, probably with snot and all. But there’s at least a 50% chance Valtteri will call attention to it if he does, and even if Valtteri is tired by now, it’s best not to test that theory when Daniel would probably cry more than sex tears if Valtteri forced eye contact. He settles for kissing Max instead, more breathing into his mouth than anything, but it gets the job done.

“Good job,” Valtteri says, hiking Daniel’s legs up around his waist. He slides in, punching a broken noise out of Daniel when he has to process how agonizingly sensitive he is despite how much he’s gaping. Jesus. Hot dog in a fucking hallway. 

Valtteri is done teasing, done talking too. Daniel can tell he’s close with how hard he’s pounding into him, and he clearly wants Daniel to finish too. He wraps a hand around Daniel’s cock and strokes once, twice, and Daniel is done, back arched clean off the bed as he cums all over his own chest, probably making some ungodly noise that Max will mock later. 

Valtteri’s rhythm breaks and he’s close, but he still hasn’t let go of Daniel’s dick. Daniel borderline shouts when Valtteri rubs at the head, batting his hand away as Max slaps a hand over Daniel’s mouth with an overtired laugh. He can take a little post-org fucking, but it _hurts_. Valtteri cums with Daniel’s fingers wrapped around his wrist, the other hand digging more nail marks into Daniel’s hip. 

Daniel hisses when Valtteri pulls out, eyes still squeezed shut. His dick twitches in interest as he feels the cum leak out of him, and god, on an intellectual level he agrees but if anything comes near his crotch in the next half hour he’s going to die. 

Max has evidently recovered somewhat because he sits up and grabs one of Daniel’s legs, pushing it further up to look. “Oh, nice,” he says, and Daniel and Valtteri both laugh.

“Nice is a word for it,” Valtteri says. “Daniel, should we have Max eat you out now?”

Daniel whimpers and tries to close his legs reflexively, even though it’s a joke. “Fuck you.”

“Wrong way around, mate,” Max says, and he lets go of Daniel’s leg to flop back down against the pillows. 

“Yeah, whatever—get down here, VB,” Daniel says when he sees Valtteri starting to get off the bed.

Valtteri chuckles. “You don’t want to wipe off?”

“No,” Daniel says. “C’mere.”

Valtteri lays down on his back next to Daniel, so Daniel can curl up on him the way he likes, and Max can slot in behind him. Having cum all over (and in) him is gross in the hot way it always is, but Daniel is too tired to care about either of those things, as he always is. Leaning up to kiss Valtteri is the final energy expenditure he can manage before he passes out. 

“I know that was a lot, but you took it so well,” Valtteri says. He presses a kiss to Daniel’s forehead, more fond than he has any right to be. “Are you good?”

“Peachy,” Daniel says. He’s got a stupid happy smile on his face, but he’s too tired to be self conscious of the fact that it comes from taking two dicks at once. And maybe some other things.

“I’m good too, if you were wondering,” Max says, spooned up against Daniel’s back and nosing at his neck. “And I don’t think it’s fair Daniel is getting all the kisses.”

“I _was_ wondering,” Valtteri says. “Wouldn’t want you feeling neglected.”

“Funny you say that now,” Max says, but he’s teasing and clambering half over Daniel for his kiss. “You’ve been neglecting me all night.”

“Does it count as neglecting if you liked it?” Daniel asks as Max settles back into place behind him. Max grumbles but says nothing--he’s contributed as much to this conversation as he’s probably going to, especially now that Valtteri is scratching his back the way he likes. 

Daniel leans up for another kiss from Valtteri, letting it turn into several as Max reaches around to hold his hand.

Valtteri breaks away first. “You both did good today,” he says. “I’m going to set an alarm for ten minutes so we can shower.”

Daniel and Max whine in protest simultaneously, and Valtteri chuckles. “Kidding, but I am setting an alarm for thirty. None of us need to deal with the fallout of cum drying in Daniel’s ass.”

“There wouldn’t _be_ any fallout if you let me eat it,” Max pipes up. “Just saying.” Daniel shifts, and although that was kind of the point of the no condoms it’s definitely not happening. Yet. 

“Maybe if you’re good, Daniel will let you later,” Valtteri says. “Now be quiet.”

Daniel opens his eyes to look up at Valtteri, who quirks a brow at him wordlessly, both of them unable to keep from smiling slightly. Everything about this arrangement, about the three of them, is a little bit gross and amusing and very unexpected all at once. Daniel lets his eyes slip back shut to settle fully against Valtteri’s chest. He’s going to make the most of his thirty minutes.

**Author's Note:**

> i thought about putting this on anon, but genuinely WHO would've ever written this except for me. regardless hope you enjoyed! kudos/comment appreciated HSAHDHADS
> 
> thank you to babypapaya for cheerleading and betaing and being basically the only reason this is ever seeing the light of day! title from Matthew 5:6 - Blessed are those who hunger and thirst ~~for righteousness~~ , for they shall be filled. It's a little (a lot) blasphemous, but my Catholic guilt allowed it :')


End file.
